Supernatural: Blood Bonds
by Consulting-Novak-of-Gallifrey
Summary: Willow Danvers is a Nephalem; Half-Human, Half-Angel, with both Heaven and Hell after her. But when she attracts the attention of the Winchesters and Castiel, will they help her, keep her from Crowley, or give her in? Can Willow help them back by becoming a member of Team Free Will and making Dean and Castiel see that all they really ever wanted was right in front of them? Destiel
1. Chapter 1

Prologue:

The girl that walked into the coffee store couldn't have been older than seventeen, but yet she held herself like she was in her thirties.

She walked up to the counter and waited to be served. A man came over to the register, and the girl tried to ignore the obvious distaste he had for her appearance.

 _Agh,_ she thought, _another guy to judge a book by its cover. How annoying._

Just because the girl decided to put blue highlights through her black hair and wear eyeliner to match does not mean that she is Goth, and yet people keep jumping to that conclusion. Some even presume Emo, which she found almost offensive.

The girl ordered a large flat white with an extra shot; she'd need it. She thanked the man and left, sculling down the hot beverage. Although the girl was only half-human she could feel the effects of the caffeine almost immediately, the buzz it gave her.

Almost sluggish in her advance, the girl headed towards the outskirts of town, to where the Demons would be waiting for her.

They wanted to kill her, you see, but she wouldn't go down without a fight. She had an Angel Blade, the perfect weapon to have when you've gotten on both Heaven and Hell's bad sides.

Throwing the empty coffee cup over her shoulder, the girl flicked her hair over her shoulder and proceeded to tie it up, to keep it out of her way. She still hadn't decided whether to cut it or not.

On entering the clearing on the edge of town, the meeting spot, she pulled the Angel Blade out of the back of her black skinny jeans. She's been surprised that it had fit down there, given how perfectly her jeans fit, especially with a belt on, but it did.

She stood, waiting, flicking the Blade in her hand, looking around the clearing as the wind blew her fringe around.

 _Bloody Demons,_ she thought, _always late._

"Hello, darling."

The girl turned to be met with the putrid smile of the King of Hell, Crowley.

"About time you got here," The girl said, slightly annoyed.

Crowley laughed, "I forgot how impatient you are, little tiger."

The girl scowled, she hated that nickname.

"Now, tiger, I see you have an Angel Blade."

"Assurance," The girl said, smirking, "Trust no one; you taught me that."

Crowley nodded, "Indeed I did. It doesn't matter, though. You betrayed us, little tiger, and the punishment for that is-"

"Death, yeah, I know," The girl was bored now, "Get on with it," She crossed her arms over her chest and lent on one leg, looking at the Demon before her with attitude.

"Ruin the moment," Crowley grumped, before shrugging, "Oh well, it was nice knowing you, little tiger, you were great fun."

Four more Demons appeared just as Crowley disappeared, all with special weapons that were needed to kill the girl.

The girl scoffed, rolling her eyes before slipping into her battle stance.

 _Only four Demons, Crowley? You're going soft, it's almost like you want me to get out of this alive,_ she thought.

The Demons charged her, and she took the time to stab one in the chest, watching the clearing light up with the orange light, before teleporting behind the group. She stabbed one in the back before it's partner noticed, but as it turned, the girl just grabbed it's forehead and smiled as the bright white light erupted from her hand and it's skull.

 _Gotta love smiting Demons,_ she mused.

The last Demon just watched the corpse fall and stared at the girl, almost frightened.

She opened her arms and smiled, "Come on, try and kill me!"

The Demon's eyes flashed black before it charged the girl. It was so close to her that she didn't manage to get the Blade around in time to stab it, so the Demon managed to slice through her waist.

"Damn it!" the girl yelled, "That's my favourite shirt!" _You just_ had _to wear your Beatles shirt didn't you? At least it missed your flannel and jacket, you douche bag._

She felt no pain, as the weapon used to harm her was not equipped to do so. She bled, but the wound wasn't deep enough to do any real damage to her being, so she just stabbed the Demon up, through its chest, and snarled in its face as the orange light signalled its death.

The body slumped to the floor, and the girl's slightly wedged combat boots stepped over the corpse, carefully avoiding the blood.

"Nice try, Crowley," She said, "Better luck next time."

And with that, she left the clearing, leaving the four bodies behind for the police to find.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 1:

Milwaukee, Wisconsin

"So, get this!" Sam yelled.

Dean groaned, barely awake, "So help me, Sammy, if you've woken me up for nothing, I swear-"

"No, you jerk, I found a hunt," Sam sighed, laughing breathily.

This got Dean's attention, he sat up and rubbed his eyes, yawning, "Yeah? What is it, then, bitch?"

Sam sat at the small table in the motel room, perched over his laptop, "There's been a homicide."

"Just the one?"

"Just the four," Sam corrected.

Dean stood and walked over to him, leaning on the table and the back of Sam's chair, looking over his brother's shoulder, at the laptop.

"Four bodies were found just outside town, in a forest clearing, three stabbed with one's cause of death unknown," Sam explained.

"Seems like our thing," Dean said, thinking out loud.

"Yeah. We gonna check it out?"

Dean shrugged, "Sure. Any witnesses?" He asked as he walked over to his bed and began to pack the 'essentials' for the hunt.

"Just the one; Willow Danvers, an orphaned girl that went missing year ago, just turned up."

"We'll go and talk to her, too, then."

"If we can find her," Sam pointed out.

"That is true."

Sam was the first to get out of the Impala, narrowly missing hitting his head on the top of the door.

 _Why can't Dean get a taller car?_ Sam thought, _Oh, yeah, I remember; because this is his child._

Both in their suits they headed towards the taped off crime scene which was surrounded by police officers and other suits. The clearing was covered in green grass, the sunlight hitting the majority of it, but the trees surrounding it stole some of the light away. They were approached by an officer, and they pulled their FBI ID out from their suit jackets and flashed them.

"Agents Smith and Smith, no relation," Dean said gruffly, "What happened here?"

"A quadruple homicide by the looks of it," The officer explained, "Happened sometime last night, at about ten to eleven by the time of deaths."

"How many attackers?" Sam asked.

"Only the one by the looks of things, someone shorter than these guys by the angle of entry of one of the wounds, possibly female. But I have no idea how the forth died, no wounds, no marks, nothing."

"We'll just take a look around, if you don't mind."

"No, go right ahead."

Sam and Dean headed towards the tapped off area, with Dean lifting the tape over their heads. Four bodies lay in various positions, none looking all that comfortable. Three of them had stab wounds, two to the chest, one to the back.

Dean crouched down beside one and frowned at the yellow substance beside it. Poking it with his finger to get some to stick he brought some up to his nose to smell it. Immediately afterwards, he regretted it, scrunching his nose up.

"What is it?" Sam asked from where he crouched beside the body that had no course of death.

"Sulphur," Dean said, frowning at the substance in question before trying to flick it off of his finger.

"Demons," Sam concluded.

Dean nodded, "Seems like all of them are."

"That might explain this one, then," Sam said, motioning to the body before him, "The others would've been killed by an Angel Blade, right? And only Angels have Angel Blades, so maybe and Angel smited this one."

Dean thought about this, "That is a definite possibility, Sammy, with only one hitch; what Angel? Most of them are dead and gone, or hunting us. And I've had some Demons come at me with an Angel Blade before."

"I believe I could assist you in this situation."

Dean looked in the direction of the deep voice and jumped slightly when he found Castiel standing right beside him, "Damn it, Cas, you can't do that in public!"

Sam was smiling, amused by how his brother always seems to be frightened by Castiel's sudden appearances.

Castiel frowned, head tilting to the side, but said nothing on the subject, "It was not an Angel that killed these Demons," Was what he said instead.

"If it wasn't an Angel, then what was it?" Dean asked, still slightly annoyed.

"It was an Nephalem," Castiel said as if it was obvious.

"A _what?_ "

"An Nephalem, or a Half Angel if you will. They're half human, half Angel, born with one parent as an Angelic being. Most usually have Angelic fathers, and their mothers die at birth, ending up orphans if they survive at all. Very rare to find one now, given how much my brethren dislikes humanity nowadays. But I do believe this is what killed these Demons."

"A Half Angel?" Dean clarified.

"Almost like the Antichrist," Sam deduced.

"Yes, almost like the Antichrist, only the Angelic version," Castiel said.

"Okay," Dean dragged a hand down his face before standing and looking at Cas with a hint of annoyance, "And you'll be able to tell who this Nephalem is?"

"Of course, it's true face will be partially Angelic."

"Good. That'll make this easier."

Sam was deep in thought, and he reached a logical conclusion, "That girl, Willow or something, she's an orphan and she apparently witnessed this."

"I think we need to give Ms Willow a visit," Dean said.

"I can lead you to her," Castiel agreed to the plan.

"Lead away, then."

Dean pulled up to the police station, cursing to himself at how stupid he was not to think of this. Of _course_ the girl was here! She was a witness! And given she had no home... well, he should've thought of it himself.

They jumped out of the Impala and walked into the station, all three of them flashing their FBI ID at the officers inside.

"Agent Smith and Smith, no relation, and Agent Anderson," Dean introduced again.

"What can I help you boys with?" The officer asked.

"We would like to see the girl who witnessed the murders from last night," Sam said.

"Yeah, okay, right this way."

The officer lead them down the hall and into an empty office. Well, not exactly empty, it had a desk, a filing cabinet and a computer, but it wasn't being used. The girl inside it stood as soon as she heard the door open, looking at her visitors anxiously.

"Here you go; Willow Danvers. Will, these are Agents of the FBI, they've come to ask you some questions," The officer said.

The girl, Willow, nodded and the officer left.

Dean turned and looked at the girl, for the first time _really_ looked at her. He was almost surprised to find that she had bright blue streaks in her black hair, but then he remembered the teenagers around now and how they loved to be different. Pfft, what a load of bullcrap. She had eyeliner on, framing her wide, dark brown eyes. What she wore almost amused him; she looked like a hunter; with a red and black flannel unbuttoned under her black leather jacket to show off a black band shirt with the Beatles logo on it.

At least she had taste.

She had her black skinny jeans belted high up on her waist, they seemed to have a pattern down the outside edges, with her shirt tucked in and she had slightly wedged combat boots on her small feet.

She didn't look girly, she looked like she had that balance of being girly and being boyish, and she did it well.

Almost reminded Dean of a female version of himself, minus the hair. She even wore a watch, some rings and a strange necklace that appeared to be from a lesser known culture or religion.

"Hello Willow," Sam said, "I am Agent-"

"Sam," Castiel said suddenly.

Sam looked over at Castiel to find the Angel staring at the girl, wide eyed.

"What?" Dean asked gruffly.

"That's her," Castiel said.

"Her? As in _her_ her?"

"Yes, I believe so."

"What is he going on about?" Willow asked, "Who are you?"

"Hi, my name is Dean Winchester, this is my brother Sam, we're hunters and this is our friend Castiel; he's a Angel," Dean said almost mockingly.

"What?" Willow asked, confused, "You guys are nuts! Angels don't exist!"

"Oh, cut the crap!" Dean yelled, "We know what you are, there's no point hiding it!"

Willow's expression changed from one of anxiety to one of amusement, "I was wondering how long it would take for hunters to find me," She smirked, "Some of you aren't as dumb as you look." She smirked proudly as she sat on the desk beside her, hands braced on the edges beside her.

Dean frowned, "Gee, _thanks._ "

"But without Angel-boy, there, you guys would be lost," Willow said, pointing at Castiel.

Dean couldn't form a logical argument at that.

Willow turned her smirk to Castiel, "So, what was it that gave me away? Was it the Blade? Or the smiting?"

Castiel didn't seem to be fazed, "I could sense your energy, your Grace."

"The smiting didn't help, though," Dean pointed out.

Willow chuckled, "Smiting Demons is just so fun, I couldn't help it."

"Where is the Blade?" Castiel asked, possibly concerned for his own life, but you can never tell with him.

"Oh, it's safe, no need to worry about that, Angel-boy."

"I do not understand-"

Willow rolled her eyes, "Never mind. Jeez, you really are a buzz-kill, Crowley was right."

Sam and Dean went rigid.

"Crowley?" Dean asked.

Willow raised an eyebrow, "Yeah. You know him?"

"Unfortunately," Dean muttered.

"We might have run into the King of Hell a few times," Sam said.

"He told me all about you guys, but I gotta admit; I'm a little underwhelmed," Willow said.

"How old are you? Sixteen?"

" _Seventeen."_

"Whatever," Dean muttered.

"How is it that you've met the King of Hell?" Sam asked.

"Crowley raised me," Willow said, almost at a dead-pan.

The only person this didn't surprise was Castiel, who only nodded.

"That would explain the tinge in your Grace," He said.

"Taught me a few good things, that douche, but I eventually got bored and wanted to see the world, so I ran away," Willow explained. "Heaven was already out for me just for being part Angel, but then I had Hell out to bring me back too. But you have _no_ idea how much I _did not_ want to go back there."

"I can imagine," Dean muttered.

Sam nodded.

Willow glared at Dean, "But _anyway,_ I hid, but it seemed like I was a beacon to anything and everything so it was _really_ hard. I dyed my hair as a cover of sorts so I didn't have to move as often-"

"You dyed your hair?"

"Yeah, not just the streaks, I'm naturally a red head."

"That explains the freckles," Dean muttered, smirking.

"Watch it, you, I can-and will-smite you," Willow said, threateningly, pointing.

Dean shook his hands mockingly, "So scared."

" _Anyway,_ so after I dyed my hair I didn't have to move around as much, but I still had to move, which was a pain. I had a few low-level Angels find me-they are unfortunately dead, sorry Angel-boy-and a few low-level Demons-also dead, good riddance- but it was mainly plain sailing until Crowley himself found me. He found me in a park at night, surprised at my black hair-he used to call me 'little tiger', which I hated; it was bloody annoying- and reminded me that I was his daughter, which I guess is kinda true, but he didn't mean I was _actually_ his daughter, if that were true, I'd murder the bitch.

"It wasn't exactly a great childhood; he kidnapped me at five and drilled Demonic practises into me. At first, I didn't care, I didn't think for myself. When I was eight I began to show Angelic abilities, and he taught me how to use them, and that was fine, but when I turned ten I decided that I didn't want to be all evil and Demonic, I wanted to do some good; make a difference. He told me I was being stupid, and the worse I got when I disobeyed him and tried to be good was a lashing, or maybe a beating, but nothing too bad.

"It wasn't until I was being taught the fundamentals of torture that things went to Hell-figuratively and literally. I was thirteen. _Thirteen._ And I was being made to _torture souls_. Some may have deserved it, yes, but then there were the ones who had made deals selflessly, or died in ways that meant they went straight to Hell, do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars. I refused, naturally. Crowley gave me several chances to comply; but I still refused. He got one of his lackeys to drag me into another room-I kicked and screamed, of course, thinking he was going to torture me-" Willow stopped, her hands shaking slightly, and took a few deep breaths, staring at the floor. She smiled, but it looking extremely forced, "Let's just say he stole my virtue.

"After that I realized just how cruel Crowley really was, and I chose my battles, mostly obeying for the sake of my sanity and my life. You can understand why I wanted to escape; all he wanted me for was a weapon against the Angels. Douche bag.

"So after I _somehow_ managed to escape, I went on the run and blahdy blah. Eventually I just got sick of it and summoned a few Demons and told them to tell Crowley to meet me in that clearing from yesterday. I was just so done with being bait, with being hunted, so I thought; if Crowley wants me dead, then let him try. He didn't actually try, though, so it kinda defeated the point. And now, here we are; stuck here.

"So that's my depressing life."

"So, it was you who killed those Demons?" Castiel asked.

Willow raised an eye-brow at him, "Jeez, Angel-boy, I thought that was obvious! How many more Nephalems do you have stashed up in there?"

Cas frowned and tilted his head, confused.

Dean was still trying to comprehend what was happening, "You were _raised_ by _Crowley?"_

"Yeah," Willow said, no humour in her voice.

"That must've sucked."

"That doesn't scratch the surface." She looked at the floor for a moment, "It's so hard, being on the run all the time, never really belonging anywhere. I've always wanted a family, not necessarily a _normal_ family, but still a family."

Dean's eyes widened, "Are you trying to guilt -trip me?"

Willow smirked slightly, but no one could see it.

Dean looked over at Sam, "She's trying to _guilt-trip_ us!" He looked back at the teenager before him, "It ain't working, hun, nah-ah," He waved his arms in front of him, "I am not having a teenager tag along with us, not happening. Especially one raised by the King of Hell."

Willow looked up, and with her wonderful acting ability, looked on the verge of tears, "Why not? I ran away for a reason! I didn't want to be that _thing_ he wanted me to be! It's no different to how you raised Sam!"

"How do you even _know tha-"_

Sam cut him off, "Dean."

Dean turned to look at his younger brother, " _What?"_

"She has a point. We can't leave her here, and she's being hunted by Heaven _and_ Hell-"

" _Exactly!"_

"Just like we are! She's not that much different to us!"

"Except she's _seventeen!"_

"Doesn't that mean we should be trying harder to help her? Because she's so young and has a chance at a normal life?"

"She's an Angel, Sam, one raised by the King of Hell! She's not normal to begin with!"

Sam sighed, "Dean, we can't leave her."

"Watch me!" Dean yelled before storming out, slamming the door as he went.

Willow cringed at the noise, and this time the mirth in her eyes wasn't fake.

"I'm sorry about him," Sam said, "He can be a real jerk."

Willow didn't look up, nor did she speak.

"You're welcome to come with us, Dean will come around, he's quite good with kids; it's just-he's trying to get around the whole 'Angel' thing."

Willow looked up, anxiety shining in her eyes, but still said nothing.

"He is a good man," Castiel agreed, "He will do what is right."

Willow chuckled, a harsh thing with no humour, "How do I know you guys don't want to kill me too?"

"Willo-" Sam started.

"Everyone else does. That's all anyone has tried to do; _kill_ me. Why would you be any different? Crowley was right."

Sam tried not to look hurt, _How could anyone think that?_ "Willow, liste-"

" _No._ I am _sick_ of people using me, I'm done."

Willow disappeared with the sound of wings.

"Damn it," Sam muttered, turning around, wanting to punch something.

"She will be at the clearing tonight," Castiel said, before looking up at Sam, "She's contemplating summoning Crowley again; to bargain or to let him kill her I have no idea."

"We need to get there before she does."

Castiel nodded.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 2:

Out in the clearing in the forest, Willow stood, cutting into her palm and letting the blood drip into the bowl of ingredients at her feet. She lit a match and dropped it, her face lighting up as the whole bowl spontaneously caught alight aggressively.

The bodies had been moved, but their blood still stained the grass red.

"I'm beginning to see a reoccurring theme."

Willow looked up to find Crowley smiling at her.

"Hello, darling."

"Crowley," Willow said.

"Got rid of those Winchesters I see."

"Yes," Willow said, not really wanting to talk about them, just so _done_ with everything.

"Annoying bunch they are."

Willow just nodded.

"I thought you'd be dead by now."

"It'll take more than _four_ Demons to kill me, Crowley, you know that."

Crowley hummed in agreement, "Yes, the poor buggers didn't know what hit them."

"You did that on purpose?" Willow was confused.

"Yeah, can't have a nobody Demon killing my daughter, now can I?"

Willow just blinked, shocked. "You know I'm not actually your daughter, right? You just raised me."

"Are you sure about that, Will?" Crowley smirked.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I _mean_ , are you sure you're not my daughter?" Crowley almost seemed bored.

"Pretty sure, I have human and Angel parents."

"But what if said human was possessed by a said Demon at the time of said intercourse, and during said birthing?"

Willow stared, "What?"

"You're mother was human, yes, but she was possessed during the whole time of pregnancy and for the first five year of life before she-he- took you for her own. You were never kidnapped, Willow, you were just taken home," Crowley paused, "Ever wonder why you look so good with black hair?"

Willow's eyes went wide when she finally understood, "No."

Crowley nodded, "Yes."

" _No._ It can't be. _No!"_

"Face it, Willow, you're a Demon at heart. You're my daughter; the heir to Hell."

" _NO!"_ Willow screamed, and with the pure emotion of the act, a bright white light erupted from her, blowing everything around her away, knocking Crowley to the ground.

Crowley looked up and began to laugh at how Willow had used her Grace against him, and her eyes now glowed a golden-white. She began to cry, breathing heavily, her tears glowing with Angelic magic.

"Willow!"

Crowley looked behind his glowing daughter to see Sam and Dean Winchester running over to them.

"No!" Crowley growled, jumping to his feet, ignoring how parts of his skin and suit were burnt.

Castiel appeared just in time to catch and lower Willow to the ground when she collapsed from the shear effort of using her Grace.

Crowley brushed off his suit, "Hello, boys."

"Crowley," Dean said, almost smirking, "Long time, no see."

"Not long enough." Crowley muttered, "What are you two doing here anyway?"

"Innocent in need of help," Sam said, shrugging slightly.

"Who? _Willow?"_ Crowley laughed, "Willow is _far_ from innocent, Moose, she's pretty much a Demon."

"She's unconscious," Castiel said from where he crouched with Willow's head in his lap.

"But she's not, is she?" Sam smirked, "She's an Nephalem."

Crowley beamed, "Finally figured it out, have you? About damn time, it was beginning to get boring with only the Angels after her, and even they thought it was a waste of time to go into Hell to get her out."

Castiel looked up from Willow, "We weren't sure where she was or if she even wanted to be saved."

"She's _seventeen, Cas! Of course she wanted to be saved!"_ Dean yelled over his shoulder.

Castiel said nothing, and went back to looking over Willow.

"Now I'm gonna get stuck with a moody teenager," Dean sighed.

Crowley laughed, "Have fun with that, Squirrel, she's got quite the temper, almost took me out, she did."

"It's better than giving her back to you," Dean argued.

Crowley smiled, "Oh contraire, my young friend, I will gain back little Willow whether you like it or not. She will resume her place amongst the Demons in Hell."

"Willow is an Nephalem, Crowley," Castiel said gruffly from his place on the ground, "She will never give into your Demonic ways."

"Wasn't our creator an Angel? And Archangel, in fact, dear Castiel."

"Lucifer was banished from Heaven and created Demons as retaliation, no Angel has rebelled since."

"But you rebelled, didn't you, Castiel?"

Castiel remained stubbornly silent.

"That was different," Dean said, "He rebelled to stop those winged dicks from re-starting the apocalypse."

"What's wrong with the apocalypse? But it doesn't deter from the fact that dear Castiel did, indeed, rebel. And must I bring up the Leviathan incident?"

Dean turned, expecting Sam to follow, and headed to Castiel, "Come on, Cas, we're leaving."

Dean and Sam began to leave, turning their backs to Crowley.

Crowley turned to where Castiel sat, looking at Willow, and smiled down at him.

"You'll have to tell her eventually," Crowley said.

Castiel looked up, confused.

"I know, Cas, I know what you are to her."

"How? How could you know?"

"Don't you remember? I was possessing a certain Human at that time, I recognised you."

"I don't have to tell her, keeping it from her will keep her safe," Castiel mused, looking back down at the teenager in his arms.

"She'll find out eventually, Castiel, she'll receive it better coming from you."

"She doesn't have to know. No one else knows."

"But I know. And I _will_ tell her if you don't."

Castiel glared at him for a good few seconds before disappearing with Willow in a flap of wings.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 3:

Willow woke up with a huge headache.

"Arg," She groaned, trying to sit up, "What happened?"

"You exhausted your Grace," Castiel said calmly from beside her.

She looked over at the Angel lazily, "Hmm?"

"You used your Grace to attack Crowley and drained it."

"I attacked Crow-" Willow cut herself off, wide-eyed, as she remembered the events of the night before.

"Willow," Castiel started, trying to calm the teenager down, "You had every right to attack him-"

"Crowley's my father," Willow muttered quietly, horrified.

"To a degree, yes, but he was only possessing your mother at the time, he is not your _actual_ father- or mother- that is confusing."

Willow looked at him, suspicion in her eyes, "How did you know that? I haven't told anyone that yet- I've been knocked out. And don't give me the 'I read minds' crap because you can't read mine."

Castiel was silent, he didn't have to explain himself to this Nephalem.

"Oh, no, you cannot drop a bomb like that and then give me the silent Angel treatment," Willow sat up and twisted around to face Castiel, ignoring the pounding of her head, "Talk, Angel-boy."

Castiel tilted his head, confused, "I have not dropped such a bomb-"

Willow sighed melodramatically, "Good Lord-"

"Do not use our Father's name in vain, child."

"Castiel, buddy, Cas-can I call you Cas?- you have to explain yourself, dude, you can't just _know_ something like that without telling someone _how._ "

Castiel did notice that this was the first time that Willow had called him by his actual name, but he chose not to acknowledge it, "I do not need to explain myself to you," He said gruffly, before rising and walking off.

Willow watched him leave, almost annoyed, but semi-expecting it, after all; he is an Angel, and most Angels are dicks.

Dean walked in moments later, pie in one hand, beer in the other. He took one look at Willow and smiled mockingly, "Oh, look! She lives!"

Willow couldn't help but chuckle, "Yes, the Nephalem survived the horrible King of Hell."

Dean balanced the beer and pie in one hand while swinging a chair over and sitting on it backwards, facing Willow, "Indeed she did," He took a long swig of the beer.

"Isn't it a little early for alcohol?"

Dean smiled, "Nah, it's never too early for alcohol."

Willow motioned to where Cas left using her head, "What's got Angel-boys knickers all in a twist?"

Dean turned to look at where she was motioning, and shrugged, "It's Cas, he tends to be like that, don't take it personally."

Willow changed the subject, "Please tell me you killed Crowley?"

Dean turned back to her, "We haven't managed to kill that bastard in years, we were hoping that you could help with that."

Willow smiled, "Give me a shot at him and I'll be happy to."

Dean smirked, "Good, good."

Sam came stumbling in like a proper Moose, making Willow chuckle, looking like he could fall back asleep at any moment.

"Morning, Sammy," Dean said happily.

"Yeah, Dean, morning," Sam mumbled, almost incoherently.

Dean just laughed, "There's some of your rabbit food left in the fridge. We're off in 20."

"Uh-huh," Was the only sign that Sam had heard him before going to raid the kitchen.

"Where we off to?" Willow asked.

Dean shrugged, "Back to the bunker I guess."

"You guys have a _bunker?_ "

"Yeah, it's hell cool."

Willow beamed, "That is so cool!"

"Warded against almost everything too."

"I'm guessing not Angels."

"No, Angels too."

"Then how does Angel-boy get in?"

Dean was silent for a moment, "Actually, now that you mention it I have no idea." He shrugged, "Oh well, mystery to be solved at another date."

When Willow stepped out of the Impala in Kansas hours later she was pleasantly surprised at what greeted her.

An _actual bunker._

"That is so cool!" Willow yelled again.

"Yeah, okay, calm your llama little miss excitable," Dean said.

Willow looked up at him, "Carl is perfectly calm, thank you."

Dean rolled his eyes and started down the stairs into the bunker with Sam and Castiel following, Willow taking the rear.

When she entered the bunker she could barely contain her excitement.

"Oh my Father this is _so fricking awesome!"_


End file.
